


By Any Other Name

by Cocoa_N_Donuts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Mr & Mrs Smith AU, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22856311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoa_N_Donuts/pseuds/Cocoa_N_Donuts
Summary: Tumblr prompt: “Whoever told you murder isn’t a crime has lied to you.”Or: a game of Monopoly reveals deadly secrets between Natalie Rushman and Mary Hall.Also: Kinda Romeo/Juliet without the whole dying thing.
Relationships: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 129





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Not to worry, I'm doing some fic housekeeping on my Tumblr/ AO3 accounts. I have my full permission to post this here. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“And… I own the blue too. Stuff it, Hall.”

Mary frowns at the hopeless situation. It would only be a matter of time before Natalie wins this game of Monopoly.

As prideful as Mary was, she knows when she is defeated. Though it doesn’t mean she has to be a graceful loser.

“Not if I kill you and inherit all your property as your wife.”

“Murder is illegal, Hall.”

“My sources say it’s not if it’s over a game of Monopoly.”

“Cool motive. Still murder.”

“Did you just meme me? Now I really have to kill you. Maybe with the gun you’ve hidden behind the false wall in your study.”

Natalie’s eyes narrow imperceptibly, “Whoever told you murder isn’t a crime has lied to you. Also, how’d you know I had a gun there?”

Maria almost freezes in this game of charades. There was something eerily dangerous in her real-in-everything-but-name wife’s expression, something she had never before seen in their two years of marriage.

Instead, she stretches, checks the clock on the wall, “Found it while cleaning, which you almost never do. Maybe you should try it one day. After we’ve talked about having guns in our home without the other knowing, Nat. Till then, I’m gonna take a shower.”

Natalie watches her go, not saying a word, and Maria hurriedly makes her way to the shower, grabbing a pistol she’d hidden there while showering, and ordered SHIELD to conduct a thorough investigation into the one woman she had never checked— the woman she had truly fell in love with without sharing Maria’s real name and identity with— Natalie Rushman. SHIELD promises her results within a day.

When she next exits the washroom, towelling her hair dry, loaded pistol tucked at the back of her bathing robe, she freezes when she sees Natalie sitting in a full leather catsuit, a hint of a buckle peeking out from where she crossed her legs, pistol aimed steadily at Maria’s chest.

Natalie’s gaze was hard, cold, with nothing of the warmth Maria knew of her wife, “Maria Hill. Assistant Director of SHIELD. Who were you talking to in the shower, dear?”

Maria feigns surprise and innocence, raising her arms in the hand in a show of surrender, “W-what? Natalie…”

Natalie stands, gun still trained on Maria, and the buckle shifts into view.

No, no no no. Maria closes her eyes, wills herself to not see the symbol of the infamous Black Widow on Natalie’s waist. Her heart twists painfully, almost feeling like it’s collapsing on itself.

Natalie must see the dawning realisation on Maria’s face, because she undoes the safety on her gun.

“Natalia Alianova Romanova.” She introduces herself with a little bow, “the KGB’s very own Black Widow. I’m the mark you’d been looking for for two years, am I not? And you’re my mark, sleeping next to me when I suspected nothing from you at all. Now, why don’t you take the hidden firearm out from behind you and drop it on the ground before I kill you?”

Her heart simultaneously in her throat and at the bottom of her stomach, she reaches for the gun behind her, and slowly holds it up between them, on the cusp of two momentous decisions: to fight the woman she loves and leave it up to chance who lives or dies, or to give up her life so no harm would come to her wife.

But the memories flash suddenly, unbidden: Natalie’s laugh the first time they met by chance in a bar, the way her eyes twinkle in the morning sunlight on those rare days that they get to sleep in. Natalie feeding her gentle spoons of soup when she’s sick, flicking peas and starting food fights when she’s down. Plump lips over naked skin, hushed gasps and muted screams of pleasure. Their kisses.

Oh, god their kisses.

Violent ones where their teeth clashed and they raced to undress the other. Playful ones stolen when the other is unsuspecting. Gleeful ones barely holding in laughter as they danced around any space they could find. Sleepy ones on the crowns of the other’s head as they bade each other a good morning or night.

Gentle, gentle ones promising each other a future together in matrimony.

_“For better, for worse, I will protect you, till death do we part.”_

And Maria gives up on the notion that she could ever fight or hurt the woman in front of her.

With a deft click, she disengages the cartridge of bullets in her gun, and lets it fall to the ground before tossing the empty gun to the side.

“Good. Now hands behind your back and I’ll bring you in,” Natalia almost chokes on her words, “Or, on account of our seven years together, I can grant you a quicker death right here.”

Maria only begins scrutinising, memorising her love’s face closer.

She takes a step forward.

“Stop.”

Maria takes no heed, continuing to move towards her wife.

A shot; Maria’s left shoulder catches with a bullet that promises to render the brunette unconscious in minutes and turn deadly in a few hours if left untreated.

“I said, stop.” The pain was tangible in Natalia’s voice now, but otherwise she allowed Maria to approach without further harm.

With one hand, Maria pulls Natalia’s gun to her sternum, aiming it at an angle so any bullet fired will go through her stomach, heart, and a lung, ensuring certain death if Natalia were to pull the trigger.

With the other, Maria links her arm over Natalia’s neck and pulls her into a vice tight hug.

She whispers into her beloved Natalia’s— Natasha’s ear, soft, intimate, with the sincerity on her wedding day undiluted, “For better, for worse, I will protect you, till death do we part. I promised you that. If my death is to be by anyone’s hands, it would be by yours, my Natasha.”

The ice in Natasha’s demeanour melts on the pet name of affection, and her ever-ready finger on the trigger turns limp.

The ringing silence stands between them as Maria leans more weight onto her wife until she is a deadweight bleeding out on Natasha.

Natasha curses, turning all open courses of action over in her head, pulls the safety on, and drops the gun, pulling Maria closer with both arms- cradling the unconscious woman while placing a firm hand over her wound, “Goddamned it Maria. God motherfucking damn it.”  
  


* * *

  
When Maria next wakes, she finds herself in a familiar place.

There’s something stuck up her nose and something else in her arm, and after a bit of panicked flailing, she gathers her wits and her surroundings.

She’s in SHIELD’s medbay, a private room specially meant for officers ranked Commanders and above. There is a steady beeping coming somewhere from her left, and on her right is an unruly mop of red hair on the cot. While her shoulder doesn’t hurt, it’s definitely uncomfortable.

So she was still alive, and still with Natalie—Natasha.

Despite her previous frantic movements when she was disoriented, the redhead remains unmoving.

“I know you’re awake, Natasha.”

There was silence, till Maria begins questioning her own drugged judgement, but…

“It was only polite to allow you a chance to pretend you’re asleep if you didn’t want to make conversation with me. How are you?” Natasha says, not moving from her position, voice a tad muffled from where she was.

“I— I’ve been better, had worse.” Maria says, still a little disoriented. Then she realised exactly where they are, and panic, an unfamiliar emotion, courses through Maria’s veins. “How did you- SHIELD has a warrant out for you—“

Natasha’s face finally emerges, and she presses on Maria’s uninjured shoulder, trying to get her wife to relax, “Hush. I cut a deal with SHIELD, Nick’s really a nice guy once you can get past his ‘My secrets have more secrets than you and I know them all’ attitude. Plus, I called for spousal privilege.”

Maria tugs Natasha onto the cot, holding her tight until Natasha presses a kiss onto her unharmed shoulder and lays her head on it.

Maria then contemplates Natasha’s words, “Why not the KGB? Why didn’t you bring me in?”

“You know why. No one cuts a deal with the KGB.”

“You could have just walked. Left me to bleed out alone.”

“I feel like I should have, what with the interrogation I’m getting now.” Natasha hedges, deadpan.

Maria grins, “I didn’t get to be Assistant Director by sitting on my ass, babe.”

Natasha fixes her with a half-exasperated stare that only decreased in intensity the more Maria smiles at her, as if she’s glad they were both alive and relatively well. Only when Maria reminds her that she still owes Maria an answer did she deign to reply, “You were the woman I fell in love with seven years ago, whom I married and promised my life to. Who just professed her love to me even after I shot her. Could I really have left you to die?”

Maria hums thoughtfully, “If you weren’t the woman I married, yeah.”

“You married Natalie Rushman, Mary Hall.”

“A rose by any other name, I guess.”

Natasha chuckles. “Where do we go from here?”

That question gives Maria pause, “We move forward. Since i guess you joined SHIELD, we’ll work together. Maybe marry again. Properly. With our right names,” Maria stops again, then says in a small voice, “Sorry I didn’t tell you who I am.”

Natasha looks to the floor, seemingly ashamed, “I’m guilty of the same. Though… I don’t even know what my name is right now.”

Maria raises a challenging eyebrow, “It’s Natasha. You can take my last name if you want.”

Natasha glares playfully at Maria, “It’s technically a pet name for Natalia, you know.”

“I do. Why else do you think I used it? You made it sound so cold, ‘Natalia’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

“It was the name that the Red Room gave me.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Maria frowns.

“Point taken.” Natasha paused, seemingly deep in thought, and Maria allowed Natasha to contemplate in silence, drifting off. She was almost asleep when Natasha suddenly pipes up, “Natasha Romanoff.”

Maria hums in sleepy agreement. Natasha chuckles in response.

“Sorry I wore you out, love.” Natasha apologises, threading thin fingers through Maria’s hair.

Maria hums again, shifting about as she knocks on sleep’s door, “At least you didn’t murder me, or leave me to die.”

“Well, thank goodness whoever told you murder isn’t a crime lied to you,” Natasha said in a hushed tone, a smile in her voice as she joined Maria in sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It was Clint. He told Maria murder isn’t a crime if it’s over Monopoly.


End file.
